Galad a Duath Light and Darkness
by Alinah
Summary: COMPLETE When Aragorn vanishes one fine winter´s day, Legolas goes out in search of him and finds more than he had bargained for.
1. Default Chapter

Hello everybody!

This is a short interlude, unconnected to "The Beckoning" (which will continue very soon!), about winter´s dangers, a man, an elf and a dwarf (sort of).

Please read and review :-)

This story is for you, San.

Alinah

Rating: PG 13

Disclaimer: Not mine

Vanished traces  
  
The light was blinding. Even though the short day was already nearing its end, the first tinge of red mingling with the brightness, the sun's cold force was without mercy. Legolas squinted his sensitive eyes against it, seeking to see the end of the deep footprints he was following. They went straight on, without wavering, steadily keeping up with the smaller imprints of a deer's hooves. Both sets of tracks disappeared into a slight depression that was framed by two low hills - but only the animal's prints re-emerged.  
  
The human's had vanished.  
  
Vanished in the brightness of the fading daylight, sun reflecting off the perfect layer of glittering snow that covered the sleeping earth with a spectacular cloak. Colors flickered and danced as the light happily skidded across the fresh crystals, rejoicing in its rebirth after two days of stormy darkness. They had both been happy to be greeted by the sun again this morning, to come out of the hiding the storm had forced them into and breathe in the clear air.  
  
Yet now, in the middle of Winter's splendor, darkness descended upon the elf's soul at the sight of the ranger's trail disappearing. Legolas shivered, wrapping his arms around himself lightly as his protecting himself from the bitter cold, but he did not feel nature's bite. It was the cold of fear that made him tremble, the underlying dread of what he might find in that slight dent that he could not look into. What would be revealed to him when he reached it? Pictures emerged from the dark corners of his mind, unbidden, and showed him a sprawled and broken body, ripped apart by a wolf pack's greedy teeth; sliced by orcs' blades.   
  
Legolas shook his head angrily and willed the horrid visions away. There were no further tracks leading into the depression, neither by wolf nor orc, and he would not help his friend by standing there, contemplating everything that might have befallen the ranger. It would take hours to go through everything that could have harmed a frail human body anyway, he concluded with a dry smile, almost hearing his friend's angry protest at such a judgement on his abilities.  
  
With a sigh, Legolas forced his unwilling legs to cooperate and moved on. His feet lightly touched upon the frozen crust with hardly a sound, inflicting no more damage than the glittering light. Yet, he moved with a tense insecurity that had nothing to do with the surface he was walking across, and the closer he came to the dent, the more tightly his heart constricted within his chest.  
  
Please, he silently pleaded within his soul, please let it just be his footprints that are lost. Let it not be him.  
  
......................................................................  
  
Aragorn groaned. He had awoken to pain before, but that did not mean that he welcomed the feeling. His eyes fluttered open with the return of consciousness, but as soon as the first rays of light hit his pupils, pain exploded all across his vision. The ranger could feel his mind slipping again, and part of him just wanted to let go and embrace the sweet loss of feeling, but a shrill warning rang out throughout him at the thought. As tempting as oblivion might seem, he instinctively knew that this time it might let him out of its grasp again.  
  
Painfully, he struggled back to the surface of his awareness, but he forced his eyes to remain closed. Instead, he opened his other senses and took in what they told him. Damp earth. That was the first impression he got. He frowned and then quietly winced at the discomfort even this small movement caused him. Yet, he was sure that he should smell something else. Fresh air and snow. He had been walking across snow, tracking a deer.  
  
With the return of this memory Aragorn found some new confidence filling him, his momentary helplessness softened by the control he had over his thoughts. Yes, he had been following a deer, eager to bring something edible back to their camp, back to Legolas who had remained behind to repair the shelter that they had found in the wilderness by a pure stroke of luck hours after the storm had swallowed them.  
  
The tracks had been fresh enough to promise a good kill in this otherwise still and frozen landscape, and Aragorn had been following with the swift precision of the skilled ranger that he was. Yet then - nothingness. The world had just gone from white to black around him. No, it had twisted, had turned upside-down and thrown him off his feet. He remembered that now, remembered how the blue sky had suddenly been beneath the soles of his boot before he had been plunged into darkness.   
  
His situation slowly dawning on him, Aragorn tentatively reached out with his hands and felt around him. What they found supported what his nose had already told him. He was lying on an uneven ground of damp soil. There were stones embedded in the earth and even roots, as if once trees had stood here that had long since died to make room for the gentle plains that lay above him. Above? A tremor ran through the man when suddenly his senses drew their conclusion from what they had found. He had to be under ground. But what, then, about the light?  
  
The ranger drew a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. He had to know, had to find out where he was even though the price would be more pain. Very carefully, he allowed his eyes to open. The light hit him without mercy, piercing the small slits that he had offered it, and a hot punch of nausea connected with his stomach, making him try and curl in on himself. The movement served to distract him from the brightness as a sharp pain flared up his left leg, spreading like lightning throughout his bones. He gasped, willing himself to keep looking, for else the torment would have been in vain.  
  
Aragorn squinted against the light, and even then his vision danced and wavered as if he were on board a vessel in a fierce storm. The perceived swaying added to his nausea and bile rose in his throat, but he forced his eyes to do their work. Dimly, he could make out rough walls of earth that rose around him. Within them, marks that seemed to have been left by gigantic hands collected living shadows, giving them the appearance of eerie life. With a gasp, Aragorn allowed his eyes to slip closed and concentrated on his heaving breathing. The light hammered against his eyelids, demanding re-entrance, and the ranger could feel the shadows creep closer again, beckoning him into their cold embrace.  
  
........................................................................................  
  
There was a shadow on the ground. For a sickening moment, Legolas thought that his nightmares had come true and he would be forced to recover a frozen body to bring it home to Imladris, but then his elven senses overrode his rising panic and calmly informed him that it was, indeed, a hole he was looking at. A hole that swallowed the human footsteps he had been following. Legolas quickened his steps. His senses insisted that he had not seen all, that he should take in the low hills around him more closely, but he ignored them in his haste to reach his friend.  
  
"Estel!" he called before he had even reached the hole. "Estel, lastach nin?!" [Estel, do you hear me?] No answer eased his heart and he had to force himself to approach carefully. No matter how light he was, he would add weight to the edges of the hole and the last thing he wanted was to make the walls crumble, possibly hurting his friend even more. When he gently eased himself onto his stomach to glance down, a groan drifted up to him and his heart leapt from both joy and concern.  
  
"Estel, hold on, I'm almost with you", he urgently reassured. He edged closer until he could finally peek into the hole. What he saw made his heart ache. The hole was at least four meters deep and Aragorn lay at its bottom, eyes closed in a face that shone from intense pain. Legolas could hear that his breath came in ragged gasped, and even his relatively untrained eye could clearly see that one of the man's leg was broken, standing out from just beneath his knee at an odd angle. There was blood on the ranger's forehead, and more lazily oozed from the wound and pooled on the ground beneath him.  
  
"Estel, lastach nin?" Legolas asked again, the head wound letting a new worry grow in his heart. "Do not fall asleep, do you hear me? Estel!" His voice rose far beyond his usual level in his fear, and at least he got a reaction. Aragorn's faced twisted, showing even greater pain, and a second, louder groan escaped him. Legolas had to get him out as quickly as possible. The elf tore his attention from his friend for a heartbeat to think. The hole was deep and he did not have a rope to pull the human out. Neither would he be able to climb out again carrying his friend - he would have to rouse the ranger enough to stand him up, maybe then he would be able to drag him up.  
  
The decision made, Legolas aimed carefully and then jumped, landing cleanly beside his friend. He quickly took in his surroundings and was surprised to see a second hole, this one in one of the walls - a small tunnel leading away. The elf shuddered involuntarily at the thought of such a dark and cramped place, but this was not his concern. Another soft moan drew him to Aragorn's side and he gently placed his hand on his friend's face. Aragorn's brow furrowed at the touch as if he was not sure what it meant.  
  
"Estel, I'm here to help you now", the elf said quietly, watching the ranger's reaction with tense apprehension, "please open your eyes and look at me." For long heartbeats there was nothing. The rays of sunlight that travelled down to caress the pale face began to turn red with the approaching night and Legolas noted how even now the temperature dropped. Their breath danced in the air before them, and before long its moisture would begin to freeze on their lips. They had to get out.  
  
"Tiriach nin?" [Are you guarding me?] The ranger's words were a mere shadow that floated out on the white mist that was his breath. Even more quietly, he added, "show-off."  
  
Legolas could have wept with joy at this sign that his friend was not only conscious but coherent enough to locate his friend's pride and aim small darts of taunt at it. "You should be grateful an immortal is making the effort to go after you, ranger", he answered in a light tone, hoping to draw out his friend even more, "for else a mere deer may have bested you." The edges of Aragorn's mouth twitched in a smile too weak to break free. "Aras? Nay, hniof." [Deer? No, trap.] Legolas chuckled. "I'm sure this is", he said seriously, "placed here to catch inattentive rangers who..." As he spoke, the elf's eyes travelled over the walls of the hole and his words froze on his lips.  
  
This was indeed no natural prison. The lower parts of the walls were covered in marks, clearly signalling that others had been caught here and tried to get out. It was obvious that none of these attempts had led to the desired goal, though, because higher up the only imprints left were those of huge hands. Giant hands. Suddenly, the information that the elf's brain had stored even before he had jumped down furiously reminded him of its presence. And this time he was not foolish enough to turn away from it. "Oh Valar", he breathed, looking up at the fading daylight that was rapidly receding, leaving them unprotected.  
  
The hand that still lingered on the human's cheek registered the change in the man and Legolas glanced down on his friend. With an effort, Aragorn forced his eyes to open slightly. Pain shimmered in them, and a tremor ran through his body that forced a whimper over his lips, but he still managed to utter the thought that had pulled him fully out of his reverie. "Trouble." It was not a question. It was the statement of a man who knew both to read his friend's voice and his own instincts. Legolas did not bother to contradict him.  
  
"Aye", the elf agreed, "I may not have long to aid you, my friend, but I will do so to my best abilities. Please assist me."  
  
...............................................................  
  
Aragorn hurt. Very much so. The athelas he was chewing helped, even though his stomach flinched and protested at even this slightest hint of food. The light was dimming, allowing him to open his eyes with less pain to his head, but his vision was still blurry and wavering. He knew that he had a concussion and had reluctantly told Legolas so, knowing that their chances of survival were best if the elf knew the facts. There was no room for pride, no point in hiding.   
  
He did not know what danger awaited them, because the elf refused to talk of such matters now, rather urging his friend to guide him through the help he was offering. Even though Legolas was an able warrior and no stranger to treating injuries, Aragorn was the by far better trained healer and his guidance served to spare him pain. It also served to keep him alert and away from the darkness that still waited at the edge of his vision, only waiting for him to let down his guard. He had to fight it off with all means possible.  
  
Moving swiftly, Legolas had bound the man's head wound and splinted his leg. While he was working and talking to his friend, he kept glancing up towards the darkening skies and Aragorn was sure the danger was awaiting them up there, even though his hurting mind could not figure out what the problem could be. He had listened for the tell-tale cries of wolves but there were none. The cold was the worst enemy he found. And a deadly one he was, but he was sure that Legolas had not meant it.  
  
"Tell me", Aragorn ground out between heavy breaths when the elf fastened the last strips of cloth around the arrows he had used as splints. A look of reluctance flickered across the fair features, but the man would have none of this now. "Told you my injuries", he panted, "no hiding today."  
  
The elf sighed and looked up again. Darkness had fallen now, and with it came the crisp cold of a clear winter's night. He turned serious eyes to his friend. "Maybe I was mistaken", he said quietly, "for there has been no sound yet, no movement. I will go up and make sure we are safe." He held up his hand when he saw the protest on the man's face. "If the danger remains, I shall come back down to fight at your side." Aragorn grimaced. "To protect me, more likely" he murmured, but he allowed his friend to go. Part of him screamed in anger against this, but he knew that his strength was limited and he might need it for more pressing matters.  
  
Squinting his eyes in a vain effort to minimize the dizzying blurring, Aragorn followed the elf's nimble ascend. As if guided by invisible hands, the slender fingers found the deeper marks in the walls and used them to pull his lithe body up, his feet lightly touching the walls to keep the momentum. The ranger had seen elves climb many times, but it amazed him yet again how they seemed to defy the laws of nature.  
  
In mere moments Legolas had reached the edge and straightened up, his slender frame darkening in front of the stars' awakening light. Tension quivered around the elf so clearly that the air seemed to shimmer around him. No sound was to be heard but Legolas' gentle breathing. Until he heard the roar.  
  
It was so loud that it seemed to rattle the very ground Aragorn lay on. Legolas let out a shout and the bow was in his hands faster that the ranger's hurting eyes could follow, the first arrow leaving the singing string within less than a heartbeat. A second roar followed, more furious now. A huge shadow fell on the elf who backed away a few paces, firing again. And again. But the noise would not abate. A massive arm swung at the elf, snow falling off the scaly skin with the motion, and a club swung out, forcing Legolas to jump back and out of the ranger's sight.  
  
Troll. A troll!! Aragorn's mind raced. It was not unheard of for trolls to hunt in winter, hiding under the snow in daylight and bursting from it at night to rip apart their victims. He had never heard of a troll, however, who had been clever enough to dig a whole to trap its prey. Dimly, the man's mind concluded that this trap might have been there before and had just been utilized by the creature. He strained to get a better look at what was going on outside but it was useless. The movement was not worth the pain it caused and so he waited in tense apprehension.   
  
He heard the gentle swoosh of yet another arrow, followed by the sickening thud of an impact, and the pained cry that followed almost drowned two similar sounds that spoke of the injuries the troll sustained. Yet, its hide was thick and its rage mounted. Aragorn could almost sense its next blow - and to his horror this time it did not just hit air. With a sharp cry of pain Legolas stumbled above him, just at the edge of the hole, teetering at the brink, and then he fell. Some laws of nature still applied even to him.  
  
Aragorn watched, helpless to do anything to aid his friend but pray.   
  
TBC


	2. Galad di duath Light in darkness

Hi!

Here´s the second part. Please feel free to review - I love reviews, lol.

Thanks to Mor and Claudia for their help with this story.

This one´s for you, San.

Alinah

Rating: PG 13

Disclaimer: Not mine

Galad di duath [Light in Darkness]

Even though all that remained for Legolas to save himself was the mere fraction of a heartbeat, the elf managed to turn in the air and get his legs beneath him, preventing him from crashing his back against the ground. He hit the ground knees first and Aragorn winced in sympathy when the prince cried out in pain and then fell to his side, eyes glazed over in agony. The ranger had little time for pity, however, when suddenly a dark shadow cut them off the gentle rays of starlight.  
  
A massive grey head was thrust towards them, its stink travelling before it like a ship under full sails, making the man gag. Aragorn's heart picked up its beat, and his vision cleared. He saw Legolas down, saw the fury in the creatures face, and knew that there was little time. The troll's advance was suddenly halted by its broad shoulders that got stuck in the entrance of the hole, and a howl of frustration shattered the air. The troll wriggled and pushed in annoyance, trying to get farther in without success, its small evil eyes fixed on the elf who was still dazed from his fall.  
  
Arrows stuck from the creature where Legolas had hit him, but this seemed to be of little effect. Ignoring the pain and knowing he would pay every move in red torment later, the ranger reached over to the elf and pulled one slender knife free of its scabbard. Dirt and snow rained down on him from above, but he barely felt it as his world narrowed around him. The pain closed in on him from all sides, leaving him only a tiny moment to act before it overwhelmed him. With one swift swing that was guided by instinct rather than his once again failing sight, Aragorn struck out at the troll.   
  
He half expected to feel the blade slide along the hard skin, finding no entry, but instead the elegant curve of steal kept its straight course without wavering. A sticky substance splattered over his hand and then the hilt of the knife was suddenly ripped from his grip by a sharp movement. Another wail filled the small space around them, this time oozing agony rather then anger. The sound seemed to rapidly fade from Aragorn, even though he knew that it was more likely to increase before abating.  
  
He felt himself fall, his vision going from red to grey. The pain in his leg was overrun by the agony that shot through his head. He was dimly aware that his hands reached up, clasping his aching skull as if preventing it from being torn asunder. His stomach heaved, trying to rid itself of substance it did not have and bringing up sour acid instead. He gagged and tried to roll to his side, but his body had withdrawn any control from him after the torment he had caused, and to his shock the gagging turned into a wheezing cough that only intensified the pain.  
  
Darkness beckoned to Aragorn, and even though his mind screamed in anger against his weakness, he felt himself give in, eager to escape the torment in his head, the burning fire in his throat and the agonising lack of air that seemed to tie iron bands around his torso. The world receded at a rapid pace. The ranger felt as if he was diving into warm waters that brought him away from the horrors at the surface.  
  
It was a firm grip on his shoulders that brought him back. He felt himself being turned to the side and his body, even though weakened, immediately resumed the fight. It began to heave again, struggling against the agony that strove to hinder it, and hot liquid poured from his mouth. The pain in his chest eased at once, but it was replaced by hot flames that flared up when fresh air hit his lungs. He groaned and tried to move away from the pain, but the hands on his shoulders continued to hold him. A voice drifted down through the haze, repeating one phrase over and over again, refusing to let him find any rest.  
  
Slowly, Aragorn's control over his body returned, and he desperately wished it would extend to chasing away the ache that seemed to cover him like a blanket of hot steal, smothering him. Failing that, he forced his voice to work. "Baw, Legolas", [Stop, it. Legolas], he growled roughly, "I am awake, I am awake." He heard a deep sigh of relief from above him, quickly followed by a wince when the elf moved by his side. He felt himself gently turned in his friend's embrace to rest against the prince's chest.  
  
Both remained still for a while, Legolas obviously from the exhaustion that made his body tremble slightly, Aragorn gathering strength for what he had to do. Even though he wisely kept his eyes closed, he had to find answers to some questions that haunted him. When he spoke again, his voice was still raspy but it had gained the authority that the healer in him always displayed. "How badly are you hurt?" he asked firmly, "and I will have no more lies from you today, my friend. The last one almost cost your life."  
  
Legolas chuckled. "I did not lie, Estel. I merely tried to verify my assumptions before telling you that we might end up as a troll's dinner. I did make one grave mistake though, when I thought to protect you from the fight. You were very well able to deliver a killer blow today. " There was a layer of awe in the elf's tone, something rarely heard, and Aragorn felt a smile grace his lips. "The eye?" he inquired, guessing where his lucky stroke had found its mark. "Aye", the elf confirmed, "it must have died almost immediately, despite the racket it made. Your aim was true."  
  
They were quiet again. Aragorn could feel the cold creep into his bones, making him shiver despite Legolas´ attempt to warm him. He could sense the elf draw breath to speak, no doubt to comment on the ranger's state of health, but the human would not let him get away this easily. "You still have not answered my question, Legolas" he said quickly, "how badly were you hurt?" The elf gave a little snort, entirely too ungraceful for his fair race. "Far less than you" he answered sourly, but before the protests could come he continued, "a cracked rib, but it still holds from the feel of it. My knees are badly bruised yet I can still move them. I am telling you the full truth, mellon-nin. It is you we should worry about."  
  
Aragorn sensed the truth in the elf's words and sighed. "Aye" he agreed quietly, "we need to move. Can we get out past the troll?" He knew the answer before the elf spoke, sensing the tension in his friend. "No", Legolas said quietly, "its carcass firmly blocks the entrance. I will not be able to get us out past it." The regret in his voice brought home the severity of the situation, but there was also something else.  
  
"But?" Aragorn asked expectantly. The answer was late, and when it came, it was tense with apprehension. "There is a tunnel."  
  
..........................................................................  
  
It had been their only hope, the last path left to take. This thought kept repeating itself in Aragorn's head, over and over and over again. He did not know how often he had thought it as he forced his body through the tense darkness. He had even played with the thought of counting the phrase, trying to grasp his endless misery in this unique measure, but he felt like that this would use up too much of his sourly needed strength. The agony of his body had become a constant companion, travelling with his every move, weighting him down and cutting off his inner light, but he refused to give in. As long as he kept going, there was still hope.  
  
_Estel_. Hope, yes that was what it meant._ Estel_. Yes, that was his name. _Estel?_ That was who he was. _Estel?!_  
  
Aragorn frowned when one thought was replaced by another. Was he beginning to go insane? Why would his mind keep repeating his name? He fought the urge to shake his head to rid himself of the cobwebs spreading through his mind and instead concentrated on the sounds of the elf behind him.  
  
Legolas had not spoken in a long time, and the ranger knew his friend was in as much agony as he. Not so much from his physical ailments, although these were sure to make his progress painful, but from the very situation they were in. The elf despised small spaces in the best of times, but the small tunnel they had to squeeze through now had to smother the fair creature's soul. His breathing was far too fast and laboured, his lack of conversation a sure sign of his mounting fears.  
  
_Estel? Estel. Estel. **Estel...**_  
  
"I know my name!" Aragorn ground out in frustration, startling himself by speaking out loud. "Estel?" the voice in his head was mirrored by Legolas´ from behind him, "what is it, my friend?" The ranger winced at the tightly woven fear that dripped through the elf's concerned words, but Legolas obviously read something else in the sound. "We should rest for a moment", he said firmly. Aragorn knew what it cost his friend to make such a suggestion and was inclined to refuse, when suddenly his head collided with solid earth. Surprised, the ranger let out a grunt of pain and collapsed onto the floor.  
  
"Aragorn?!" The man could feel Legolas hand brushing his back when the elf searched for his neck, no doubt looking for a pulse there. It hit him then just how high-strung the elf had to be if he no longer registered the sound of the human's loud breathing. The ranger reached out with one hand, grasping his friend reassuringly. "I am fine", he said, stretching the truth of the statement, "do not worry." With his other hand he felt in front of him, fighting the panic that threatened to overcome him at the thought of the tunnel just ending here. It would be a dead end, indeed.  
  
Thankfully, though, he found that the tunnel merely split in two. "What is it?" Legolas asked his grip on Aragorn's hand almost painful in its intensity. "Fate has offered us yet another choice", the ranger answered, trying to keep his voice light, "that is a dwarf for you, digging his way through the ground but then losing his way." He did not normally play with the elf's prejudices when it came to dwarves, refusing to be pulled into the conflict, but now he knew the comment would relax his friend.  
  
He was not disappointed. The bruising grip on his hand eased up slightly when Legolas chuckled and replied: "Aye, that is just like them. Always bragging about their skills, but I'm asking you, what do they need the virtual labyrinths for that they dig into earth's stomach? They must be losing their way constantly and no wonder, living in the dark for most of their lives. Even their brains cannot function without proper light, no matter what they say."  
  
Aragorn could not help but chuckle, too, even though it was more at his friend's fire on the subject than at the dwarfs´ supposed inabilities. When Legolas had inspected the narrow tunnel prior to their entry into it, he had quickly found the unmistakable marks of an axe in the frozen ground, and the friends had concluded that a dwarf must have been trapped in the hole in warmer weather and the dug his way out. In regular distances, the low ceiling had been marred by rough strokes that had led to a layer of rocks, thus preventing the dwarf - and now them - to find their way back to the surface.  
  
"Now which way to take?" Legolas asked, nervousness quickly seeping back into his tone. "It is too dark in here even for me to see, and I can sense no draft from either direction." Even though his words were calm and to the facts, his once again mounting fear was clear in them, and Legolas must have sensed this, too, for he remained silent, unwilling to give away more by continuing to speak.  
  
**_Estel._**  
  
The voice in Aragorn's mind filled the ensuing silence, growing louder and more insistent. There was something familiar in it, he realized, something warm and full of the promise of help. Willing himself to listen, he opened his mind to it.  
  
_Estel. Ion-nin. [Estel. My son.]_  
  
Aragorn's heart gave a lurch and then began to race in fresh hope. They were not close to the heart of Rivendell, but still Lord Elrond seemed to have sensed their predicament. Now that he had identified who was trying to establish the connection with him, the ranger embraced it, feeling the warmth of his father's love chase away the worst of the chill. He sensed that the connection was weak and most likely to fail soon, but still the promise of help remained.  
  
_Estel. Tirio. [Estel. Look.]_  
  
Without opening his eyes, Aragorn did as the voice bid him to. His moved his head slowly from the location of one passage to the other. At first, nothing happened, and his heart clenched in doubt, but then a tiny light sprang into life. It was no more than a candle at a huge distance, barely noticeable, but to him it was a bonfire that beckoned brightly. New hope rushed through him even as he felt the connection with his father quiver and snap. It had done its due.   
  
"This way!" The enthusiasm that suddenly filled Aragorn seemed a light in itself, and when he forced his body to move, pain roaring back into life throughout him, a wild joy joined it. He knew they would make it. It was not far. And in his heart, he knew that his father had already sent riders on their ways to aid them. He could almost see them captured in the tiny flame he was crawling to, the outline of two identical figures pushing their horses through the dense snow. They would not be lost.  
  
It took him a moment to realize that Legolas was not following him. He stopped, listening, but all he could sense from his friend was his ragged breathing. "Come on", Aragorn urged, "it is not far to the light. This is the way." There was no answer. The fear and doubt coming from Legolas was almost physical, filling the tiny space with its suffocating presence. "Aphado nin" [Follow me] Aragorn urged again, trying to put all the assurance he felt into the words. He knew he would not stand a chance of forcing the elf along.   
  
"You cannot be so sure" Legolas answered finally, "the other way may also lead us out. Give me another moment, maybe there will be a draft..." "Aphado nin!" Aragorn interrupted. He knew that his new strength was largely due to his father's help and it would not stay with him forever. There was no time to lose. "Im Estel", he added more quietly, "apahdo nin, galad alpalan." [I am Estel/hope, follow me, the light is not far.]  
  
And with a sigh, Legolas did.  
  
As they continued, Aragorn found that the light grew with every painful inch he forced his wounded body to cover. It drew him along and he clung to it like a drowning man to the rope he has been thrown, pulling himself along despite the cold and the torment and the darkness that wrapped him and tried to tie him down. The light was stronger.  
  
An eternity seemed to pass them in the blink of an eye and then Legolas voice rose behind Aragorn in disbelief and joy. "Estel" he breathed, " im tiradon galad!" [I see the light.] Laugher of relief pearled from him and Aragorn joined in, his exhaustion fading in the face of their victory as he listened to Legolas repeat the words of salvation over and over again.  
  
"Im tirion galad."  
  
The end 


End file.
